


Lazy Mornings

by Mythdefied



Series: Brother Mine [1]
Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pre-Canon, Twincest, early life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythdefied/pseuds/Mythdefied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jett had learned to tolerate mornings early on, enjoy them more often than not, even if he never could feel entirely awake or alert. It meant dropping his guard, that tiredness, just a little, but more than he'd ever tolerate under any other circumstances. Joxer was always a special circumstance for Jett, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazy Mornings

There was something about mornings. Not that Jett was in any way a morning person, or an afternoon one for that matter. He was more suited to the night, the degrees of darkness that let him move about unseen, sliding from the shadows to take out his targets, then blending back in with ease. It was like a second home to him.

His first home though, well. He'd learned to tolerate mornings early on, enjoy them more often than not, even if he never could feel entirely awake or alert. It meant dropping his guard, that tiredness, just a little, but more than he'd ever tolerate under any other circumstances. Joxer was always a special circumstance for Jett though. Always.

His arm was going numb, Jett thought, feeling a slight tingling starting at the tips of his fingers, but he didn't try to move it, pull it out from under Joxer. He continued to lightly stroke his fingers back and forth along Joxer's spine, regardless of the pins and needles sensation sparking through his skin; Joxer was relaxing more and more into that stroking and Jett liked feeling that, the drape of Joxer's body against him, over him. 

Sprawled naked across the bed, covers long ago cast aside, Jett let his eyes drift shut and just enjoyed the sensation of Joxer pressed up along his side, one leg thrown over his. Joxer was the real morning person, waking up Jett with his hands and mouth when he couldn't stand watching Jett sleep anymore, impatience and need moving him to action. And that first quick tumble in the morning made waking up at such a gods bedamned early hour bearable for Jett. Joxer said he didn't seem nearly as ready to kill something if Joxer woke him up in a good way. If it made him happy to think that...Jett supposed it didn't hurt anything.

Early wasn't just a time Joxer liked, it was also, according to him, a time when not many people in the household were up. Certainly not their parents and if they were quiet enough, the few slaves up and about getting things ready for the day would never learn a thing.

A smirk flittered across Jett's lips. Joxer's ability to delude himself grew by the year. As if the slaves didn't already know exactly what was going on in Joxer's bedroom. Hades, it was probably the worst kept secret in the city, let alone the household, not that Joxer would ever know that. It would humiliate him, probably make him leave home despite being too young, and Jett wouldn't allow it to happen. Athens was sporting a far larger population of toungeless people than most cities these days, but it was a lesson quickly picked up by others and Joxer would keep his illusions.

"You're not paying attention, Jett." Joxer's accusation was pointed but faintly amused all the same.

Jett opened his eyes, lazily stretching his other arm above his head for a long moment. The pull on his muscles felt good but also put into sharp contrast just how numb the arm beneath Joxer was getting.

"Of course I was," Jett said, sliding his free arm behind his head. 

Joxer's voice, that constant stream of babble he'd kept up since their last tussle wound down had been a pleasant background noise for Jett, as it always was. Joxer had the amazing ability to never shut up, to find endless things to talk about and never repeat himself, even if there was little point to what he said. And Jett liked it. Oh, not all the time. It annoyed him to no end when he was trying to practice weapons or concentrate on the work the family tutor assigned, and then he had no problem giving Joxer a good whack to shut him up. Or, if that failed, as it often did, gagging him. But in these long, lazy mornings when neither of them had responsibilities to tend to, Jett liked the sound of Joxer's voice. It washed over him, a warm, comfortable drone that relaxed him. It didn't mean he wasn't paying attention though. He never ceased to pay attention to Joxer.

"You think you want to try working with a real sword," Jett said, sarcasm touching his tone to let Joxer know what he thought of that idea. "You're gonna try grabbing one from the armory this afternoon when Dad's men have finished practice and no one's around -- not gonna happen. You're hoping we have fresh rolls for breakfast. You think the wine crop this year isn't as good as last year's -- it isn't; too bitter." Jett continued to list the topics Joxer had covered in the past half hour or so, his fingers still stroking along Joxer's back as he spoke, although they'd lost all sensation.

"And you're hoping to get out of that fitting Mom's arranged for us next week since we grew out of our last set of clothes -- I'm planning on 'forgetting' about the appointment and spending the day sleeping by the lake; you can keep me company," he concluded.

Joxer was grinning. That bright, wide grin that made him look both like a young man who was utterly happy, and like a complete idiot. But he was Jett's idiot, and Jett adored that grin. Of course, "adored" wasn't a word that he'd be speaking aloud anytime soon, or even in this lifetime. Kind of like the word "beautiful," although Joxer was, to Jett. 

He'd heard people use other, far less flattering descriptions for both Joxer and his talking over the years, but he never heard them more than once from the same source. It'd taken a bit of practice, learning how to remove eyes and ears without bleeding someone to death -- and he honestly preferred just a straight kill, but a lesson couldn't be learned as well from a simple death, could it? Not as well as a mangled, living body could teach it, Jett had found. 

Joxer knew; he wasn't _that_ oblivious. But Jett hadn't done anything right in front of him for years. Joxer accepted what Jett did, or maybe just the fact that Jett wasn't going to stop defending Joxer in his unique way, but he didn't like it and the few times he'd seen Jett at work, he hadn't been able to conceal his horror or disgust and those were things Jett _never_ wanted to see again. He wanted this grin from Joxer, he wanted Joxer's brilliant smiles, his laughter, his eye rolls when he was exasperated, the broken groans and cries he made when he couldn't stay silent under Jett anymore. 

Of course, Jett had made Joxer wince before, cringe when he knew Jett was about to hit him, but that was something completely different. He'd never hurt Joxer like that, annoyed and momentarily scared him, true, but no lasting pain, no damage. When Joxer had seen him kill though, Jett was certain it had hurt Joxer. Nothing physical, but that horrible look in his eyes had taken days to go away, weeks once, and Jett couldn't stand to see it. It'd become easier to just take care of things away from Joxer's notice, mostly at night now when Joxer could be counted on to be deeply asleep and not tagging along after him.

"So can I borrow your sword then?" Joxer asked, pushing himself up on one elbow, freeing Jett's arm in the process. "Or you could just come with me and help me get a good sword out of the armory."

"Forget it." Jett snorted. "You're sticking with the wooden one, Jox." He flexed his fingers, painful as the blood rushed back into them. "I'm not gonna help you find a way to cut off some body part you'll probably need later in life."

Joxer rolled his eyes. "I cut the top of my foot that _one_ time, Jett, and you've gotta drag it out every time since."

"Yeah," Jett stretched out his arm completely, opening and closing his hand, "because you didn't learn from it. Your sword work still sucks."

"Does not." Joxer gave him a gentle shove, hand on his chest.

"Does too." Jett wasn't arguing, just stating a fact. He didn't push back either so Joxer gave in with a dramatic sigh and another long roll of his eyes.

"Can I at least try out that second set of throwing knives you picked up?"

Jett couldn't help but laugh, a sharp bark of humor that made Joxer wince and hiss at him to keep it down.

"What if someone hears?" he whispered.

"Like I'm gonna let you _near_ those," Jett said in a normal tone, ignoring Joxer's worries. "You _do_ remember what happened with the last set of knives, right? Or did you already 'rewrite' that little bit of history in that mind of yours?" The feeling was back in his arm and hand now; he reached up to gently poke Joxer in the forehead in time with his last few words.

"Knock it off." Joxer swatted his hand away, scrunching up his nose. "And it wasn't that bad last time, you're just being annoying."

Jett snorted. "Uh, yeah, Jox. It wasn't bad that you killed the neighbor's cattle."

"It was only the one cow," Joxer protested mulishly.

"I think Clytius had a...special relationship with that cow," Jett said, only half teasing. 

"Jett, that's sick!" Joxer nudged him sharply, knee digging into Jett's thigh. But Joxer was smiling too and there wasn't a hint of real offense in his tone.

"The guy mourned for months," Jett said, smirking. "Plus, Dad had to pay him twice what that cow was worth to get Clytius to shut up. Should've just let me take care of it," he muttered that under his breath.

"Anyway, that was almost a whole year ago," Joxer said, shrugging one shoulder. "I'm way better than I was then."

Before he could give that the scathing reply it deserved, Jett was distracted by Joxer's hand coming to rest on his stomach. Long fingers spread outward, brushing gently over the soft skin of his belly.

"You'll be right there with me." Joxer's voice lowered. "You can tell me if I'm doing anything wrong."

Jett managed to keep the smirk planted firmly on his lips, even as Joxer slid his hand slowly upwards. "You already started out wrong," Jett said, never taking his eyes from that wandering hand. "You're not gonna--" he broke off with a soft hiss as Joxer's fingers brushed over his right nipple. "Not gonna seduce me into letting you do whatever you want," he finished, forcing his eyes from Joxer's hand to his face.

Joxer frowned, but it was fleeting. Then he shrugged again. "It's worked before," he said, his smile returning.

"Only when I let it," Jett pointed out.

"Really?" Joxer raised a skeptical eyebrow -- and rubbed his thumb hard over Jett's nipple.

Jett's eyes snapped shut as an involuntary shiver went through him. Joxer knew his weaknesses and how to use them, Jett had to give him credit for that, and reluctant admiration. Another hard rub, just this side of painful and Jett gasped, mouth falling open.

Yeah, forget the spare knives, if he let Joxer keep that up he'd find himself handing over his best sword with nothing more than a whimper of protest.

And Joxer would probably end up seriously hurting himself.

That thought let Jett grab Joxer's wrist, let him put a stop to that wonderful friction before Joxer moved to pinching, because Jett knew he wouldn't have a coherent though in his head past that point.

"C'mon Jett." Joxer's voice dropped to a murmur, his tone teasing, coaxing.

Lips pressed against Jett's cheek, a soft, lingering kiss. And then Joxer sank his teeth into Jett's shoulder, not enough to draw blood, but more than enough to leave a mark, to make Jett gasp and arch up into the pain/pleasure of it.

Joxer knew him _too_ well, damnit. Another bite and he'd have Jett agreeing to anything and everything and no way was Jett letting that happen.

Letting go of Joxer's wrist, Jett grabbed his shoulders instead and rolled them both over, pinning Joxer beneath him. Joxer laughed, his own caution against noise apparently forgotten as that bright, surprised laughter bubbled out, accompanied by an equally bright grin.

"What're you doing, Jett?" He asked, although the sparkle of anticipation in his eyes gave away the fact that he was well aware of why Jett was grabbing his wrists in one hand, forcing them up over his head. Joxer didn't resist.

Jett didn't say anything, just grinned down at Joxer. He couldn't manage those open, friendly expressions of Joxer's, his tended towards vicious and scary, but Joxer never seemed to mind. If anything, the growing hardness Jett was feeling against his stomach said that Joxer rather liked it. Or maybe it was just being held down. Joxer always seemed to like that too. Maybe one of these days they'd have to try it with real restraints.

"What d'you think about that?" Jett asked, leaning close, letting his lips brush over Joxer's as he spoke.

"About what?" Joxer asked curiously, eyes wide and gleaming in Jett's vision.

"Me, tying you up."

Joxer gasped, a sharp, sudden sound that sent warm breath over Jett's lips, his cheeks. Joxer's eyes widened further and there was no trace of fear or revulsion there, exactly the opposite, actually.

"Think you'd like that, huh?" Jett asked, nudging Joxer's legs apart with his knee. "Ropes or leather? Your choice."

It wasn't a gasp this time, more of a...moan. "L--leather." Joxer's voice was far more breathy than normal.

"Mmm, good choice, bro. Think I'll like you in leather." Jett closed that last, minute distance to press his lips against Joxer's.

Soft lips that eagerly parted beneath his, slick, talented tongue that slid into his mouth as Joxer pushed up against him. A slow rocking motion that had Jett fully hard in seconds.

He tightened his grip on Joxer's wrist and that got him another gasp and a hard buck of Joxer's hips against his.

"Yeah," Jett breathed the word, pulling back from the kiss, grin baring his teeth as he worked a hand between them.

Joxer whimpered, his eyes snapping shut when Jett's hand closed around them both. 

Gods, Joxer was loud. Jett would never tell him that, hoped Joxer never realized it because it was too good, hearing those small moans and gasps escape when Joxer tried to control them, becoming cries and outright yells when Joxer forgot about everything but enjoying himself, enjoying Jett's hand stroking over them both, his grip tight on their cocks, fingers sliding over the heads and that always sent Joxer further over the edge.

Joxer planted his feet on the bed, perfect leverage for pushing up, again and again into Jett's grip. Needing better leverage himself, Jett let go of Joxer's wrists -- pleased to note that Joxer left his arms up above his head -- and braced his hand on the mattress. 

It took a few thrusts to find the rhythm Joxer wanted, that fast jerking of his hips, sliding their cocks together in counterpoint. Then he had it and they were suddenly there. That perfect place when every move they made was together, one anticipating the next, skin against skin, slick with sweat and pre-come and Jett's hand was sticky with it and he tightened his grip just a bit more, knowing exactly when, how much it would take.

Joxer yelled, hands clenching into fists above his head but still staying exactly where Jett had put them, eyes flying open, gaze wide but seeing nothing as he tensed beneath Jett.

Wetness splashing over his hand, across their stomachs, each spurt making it easier for Jett to thrust into his hand, against Joxer's twitching cock. Once, twice more and Jett gasped through clenched teeth, hips snapping up, more heat between them, wet and sticky.

He let his head fall forward, eyes closing, muscles trembling, just held himself there for a few long moments. He could hear Joxer's gasps, loud in the air between them, feel them both starting to grow soft in his grip, but he didn't let go. Not until Joxer shifted beneath him, legs falling to the bed.

Jett didn't collapse on Joxer, had never done that. He lowered himself carefully, sliding off to the side a bit so that he only half lay on top of Joxer. He had to let go of them both, reluctantly did so, then slid his hand up Joxer's stomach as he settled next to/on him. One leg draped over Joxer's, head on Joxer's shoulder, Jett collected some of their mingled come on his fingers, then brought it to his lips. Tongue flicking out, he tasted it, salty and bitter and a hint of sweet that had to be Joxer, because Jett didn't care for sweets.

Joxer made a slight whimpering noise and Jett looked up to find Joxer watching him, his fingers, with wide, dark eyes. Longing, desire, maybe a little hunger there, and Jett grinned and held his fingers out to Joxer's mouth.

Joxer licked his fingers clean.

If Jett could've gotten hard again that soon, the feel of Joxer tongue sliding over his fingers, between them, licking every drop of their come off would've been enough to do it. But he needed longer than a couple minutes and after three times already that morning, he thought he'd be lucky if he could manage it again before that evening. Besides, the morning was moving on and they'd have to be "officially" awake soon.

Not that Joxer seemed to care, with the way he was still licking Jett's fingers, even after they were completely clean.

"So," Joxer said, tongue flicking out to slide between two fingers, "can I have those knives?"

Jett laughed. He couldn't have stopped it and didn't bother trying. He was still chuckling moments later when he pulled his fingers away from Joxer and levered himself off the bed.

"Well, is that a yes or a no?" Joxer asked, sitting up.

Jett just shook his head and used an edge of the bed sheet to wipe off his chest and stomach. "You're impossible, Jox," he said with a fond grin.

"Am not." Joxer didn't quite frown, didn't look sure if he'd been insulted or not. "You didn't answer me," he said, his own grin returning as he too used the bed sheet for his cleanup.

"No, I didn't." Reaching down, Jett grabbed hold of a handful of Joxer's hair and pulled him into a hard kiss, cutting off Joxer's pained yelp.

"See you at breakfast, bro," he said against Joxer's lips, then released him gave him a light shove.

Joxer fell back on the bed with another yelp, this one surprised. Jett was sure Joxer would have plenty to say about that, but he was already across the room and opening the door that separated their rooms before Joxer drew breath enough to say it.

"Hey! Wait a min--!"

Jett shut the door with a grin.

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> This was the PWP that just wouldn't work. I have three versions of this thing sitting on my hard drive and this was the only one that worked out. And even now it didn't quite work the way I wanted it to. Of course I wanted sex, porny, non-plot sex. I still didn't get it. It didn't even turn out as hot as I wanted it to, but I think I figured out that much of it.
> 
> Jett doesn't do hot sex well. He certainly doesn't do romance much at all. Joxer does and if I'd done this from his point of view I would've had far less problems. Joxer, at least in my mind, can completely abandon himself to the moment, just turn on while turning his brain off. Jett can't do that. Jett thinks, constantly. Where Joxer is all about, "moremorerighttherehardermoreYES!" Jett is all, "If I do that then I get this result, and if I do this then I get another result and gods, can I play my brother like a lyre or what?" Everything is about cause and effect for him, about pushing buttons and getting the desired results. Not that he doesn't enjoy himself, but he's so calculating about it that it just doesn't come across as nearly as sexy or as hot as it might've from Joxer's utterly unthinking point of view.
> 
> Of course I didn't figure any of this out until I was nearly done with the piece. I do think still it works, just not the way I'd intended it to.
> 
> Just for comfort's sake I'd place them around seventeen years old (although, if I'm honest about it, they could very well be younger).
> 
> Thanks to PennyS for the fast beta.


End file.
